Coming Back
by Nico Morrison
Summary: The lead singer of a popular rock band believes he is the reincarnation of The legendary Phantom of the Opera, which lands him in a Mental Hospital. Can a young woman in a similar cirumstance lead him to salvation or deeper into madness? COMPLETE
1. Insane?

**_Hello!_**

**_This story has been brewing in my head for a while...I'm gonna try to get it out. Depending on the reaction of you guys, I'll keep going. _**

**_The character of Gerard is loosely based on Gerard Way, lead singer of MCR. Pretty much in looks only. _**

**_Nico_**

* * *

"Are you afraid of me?"

His pale skin contrasted severely with the dark as pitch locks falling into his kohl-lined eyes. Evidence of black nail polish was apparent on the nails of his right hand. His black, crushed velvet jacket covered a dark red shirt, which was tucked neatly into black pinstriped pants.

The psychiatrist barely blinked. "Do you think people are afraid of you?"

He sort of half smiled. "Why else would I be here?"

"You think you're here because people are afraid of you?" The doctor scribbled something in her notes.

"I think I'm here because there is no other suitable place for me." He replied, lighting his fourth cigarette since his daily therapy session began nearly an hour ago.

"Have you been taking your medication, Gerard?"

He leaned back onto the leather couch, leaning his head back and exhaling a plume of smoke.

"Gerard?"

"You know I haven't," Gerard answered.

"And you realize we cannot release you until I've decided you are taking your prescriptions willingly." The doctor said, her voice firm but gentle.

Gerard sighed.

"Gerard, you've made minimal progress since you've been here," the doctor began. "I'm afraid that if you don't start improving I'll be forced to check you in to Stonebridge."

Gerard nodded. This was not news to him. He had seen what seemed like hundreds of psychiatrists in the past six months, all convinced that he was in need of severe mental help. Each of the doctors had warned him that he would find himself in the old Stonebridge Mental Facility, where he would be subject to injected medications to correct his "imbalance."

"Don't you want to leave here, Gerard?" The doctor asked.

"I suppose," the young man shrugged.

"I'm sure the rest of your band mates are eager for your return," she continued.

Gerard scoffed. "That's doubtful," he said, smashing out his cigarette. "After all, they're the ones who put me here."

"They were worried about you."

"They think I'm insane," Gerard countered.

"Well, you must realize that the things you proclaimed about yourself are difficult for some to grasp."

"Not as hard as it has been for me," Gerard replied darkly. He raised his thick-lashed eyes to the large clock above the doctor's doorway.

He still had an hour of therapy left.

"I'd like to continue where we left off yesterday," The doctor said, suddenly changing the subject. "You were about to tell me about the first time you had a memory of your…former life."

"It was just before Christmas," Gerard began mechanically, feeling as if he had told the story a million times before, although it was only the second time.

The first time had been to his band mates, who promptly checked him into the finest psychiatric hospital in Paris.

"We had just left the stage at the Paris Opera House," he continued. "I was drunk." He said bitterly. "Charles and Dewey suggested we go down to the catacombs…he wanted to blow a few lines before we left."

"Blow a few lines?" The doctor interrupted.

"Cocaine," Gerard clarified.

"And was this a common occurrence?"

Gerard nodded. "We're rock stars." He informed her. "At least, we were."

"Continue, Gerard."

"After we each did a few lines we managed to travel deeper into the passageways. Eventually, we hit water," Gerard recounted. "It was a huge lake…icy cold and murky. I can't remember if it was Charles or Dewey who suggested we climb into the old boat…"

"There was a boat?" The doctor asked.

"Yes," Gerard nodded. "A sleek little number…with dusty velvet pillows and a long stick for navigating.

"Dewey and I sat in the body of the boat while Charles began to maneuver it. That's when it happened."

"When what happened, exactly?"

"When I remembered who I used to be," Gerard replied, locking a cool stare with the woman sitting across from her.

"And who was that, Gerard?"

"You know who it was."

"Are you afraid to say his name?"

"No."

"Then tell me. Who was it that you remembered?"

Gerard inhaled deeply.

"I believe I am the reincarnation of The Phantom of the Opera," he said shakily. "I have all of his memories, all of his mistakes…all of his passion and talent…I am him. He is me.

And no amount of therapy or medicine will change that, Doctor."


	2. Issues of Trust

**_I know, this one is weird. I wanted to get right into it...I can't stand stories that have a "forever" set up. Hopefully this story will keep your interests! Be aware of the rating. As most of you know, I like to have at least ONE smutty chap in my stories! _**

**_Nico_**

* * *

Night was particularly jarring in the mental hospital. Gerard barely slept, preferring instead to walk the expansive grounds of the hospital. He was considered a "low risk" patient, having no other discernable issues besides his identity crisis, as the professionals had labeled it. Therefore, he had complete access to every nook of the hospital, including the pristinely manicured greens the old hospital gardeners painstakingly tended to.

He lit his umpteenth cigarette and flicked the match he had struck against his belt across the large pond outside of the hospital.

It was so deadly silent outside, he could hear the hiss of the hot sulfur as it hit the water.

For as long as he could remember, he had been cast in the role of a miscreant, never quite fitting in with others close to his age. He always felt older than he was…and sadder than he should be. It was as if he had been born incomplete; instead of feeling whole, even in his happiest of moments, there was something missing.

He propped his feet up on the metal chair across from the one he was sitting on. The moon above shone down upon him, illuminating his already snowy skin with an almost iridescent glow.

Suddenly, a rapidly moving figure caught his eye. At first, whatever was running across the field in the distance appeared to be a ghost. White material streamed out behind the figure as it ran, pumping its legs furiously.

Moments after the figure disappeared between a large maze of hedges and bushes, two orderlies appeared, in hot pursuit. One, a heavy-set man Gerard had come to know only as "Butch," leaned dramatically against his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Gerard chuckled, causing both men to snap to attention.

"Ah, it's only Gerard," Butch said, still panting.

"Evening Butch," Gerard replied, standing to face the man.

"Workin' on any new songs?" Butch asked, his cockney accent almost painful to Gerard's ears.

"Nah," Gerard replied, flipping dark hair from his eyes. "Been toobusy being crazy."

Butch laughed. "Yer not crazy," he informed Gerard. "Yer just an eccentric musician."

"I'll let the doctors know your diagnosis," Gerard replied.

"Butch, come on! Quit your yapping! She's getting away!" The other orderly trotted over to where Butch and Gerard stood.

"Hello Martin," Gerard greeted him cordially. "One get away from you?"

"It's just the Browne girl again," Martin sighed. "I don't know why we even bother chasing her anymore; she's always back by morning."

"So why not let her be?" Gerard asked.

"She ain't right in the head," Butch replied, then blushed. "Sorry mate."

"No offense taken, Butch." Gerard replied.

"And she doesn't have the same liberties as you," Martin added. "She's not allowed to leave the building unsupervised."

"Why not?"

"You know we can't discuss that with you, Gerard." Martin replied.

Gerard scowled into the darkness, hating the feeling of being less than equal to the orderlies.

"Well she's long gone now," Butch declared. "Let's go, Martin. She'll be back."

Martin sighed. "Well, I'm not about to scour the countryside in the middle of the night," he said. "Let's go; we'll let the doctor on call know and he can decide what he wants to do from here." He looked to Gerard. "Goodnight," he said.

Gerard nodded.

"Hey, maybe you could finish teaching me that song tomorrow," Butch said enthusiastically. "I fixed the guitar strings."

"Sounds good," Gerard replied, lighting another cigarette.

He watched as Butch awkwardly waved and moved away, hurrying to catch up to the much more in shape Martin.

Gerard imagined that Butch would be playing catch up for most of his life.

Not that he himselfwas in quite the situation to cast such dispersions.

He turned back around, ready to sit back down.

A girl was in his seat, her thin legs propped up as his had been.

"So you're the rock star everyone's been talking about," she said, staring up at him through liquid green eyes. "Got a smoke?" She asked, without letting him reply.

Gerard pulled a cigarette from his pack and tossed it to her. The girl lit it with lightning speed, inhaling deeply.

"You know, people were looking for you." Gerard said.

"They're always looking for me," she replied.

"Won't you get in trouble?" He asked.

"What else could they possibly do to me?" She countered.

"Good point."

"I'm Rae," she said, sticking out her hand for him to shake.

"Gerard," he said, grasping her hand, slightly shocked at how cold she was.

"I know," she replied, pulling her hand from his clutch.

"Why are you running away?" Gerard asked.

Rae leaned back in the chair, adjusting the thin white skirts she wore. "I'm not."

"Really?" Gerard said. "That's not what it looks like."

Rae rolled her eyes. "I just can't sit in my room all the time. It's boring."

"Why aren't you allowed out of the building?" Gerard asked.

"Because they don't trust me." Rae replied.

"Why are you here?" He asked boldly.

"Why are you?" Rae countered.

"Because I think I'm someone I'm not." He replied.

Rae narrowed her eyes. "Are you making fun of me?"

Gerard looked down at her. "What?"

Rae stood up. "You're making fun of me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You pretend like you don't know what I'm here for and then you say you're here for the same thing?" Rae asked, sounding hurt.

"You think you're someone else?" Gerard asked, intrigued.

Rae clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Don't play stupid," she told him.

Gerard regarded the girl before him. She was younger than his 28 years, but not by much. She wore all white, which made her look more frail than she really was. Streams of curly red andblonde hair stuck up from her head and tumbled down her back. Freckles spattered her nose and cheeks.

She was very pretty, Gerard realized.

"Look," he began carefully. "I had no idea that _that_ was the reason you were here. It just so happens that I am here for the same reason. If nothing else, you should take solace in the fact that our ailments are not as uncommon as everyone would have us believe."

Rae stared at the Gerard, obviously contemplating trusting him.

"So who do you think you are?" Rae asked against her better judgment.

"No one you would know," he replied quietly.

"Try me," she challenged.

Gerard sighed. What harm could telling a fellow patient do? Besides…wasn't that part of his therapy? To open up and conquer his demons?

"I am a reclusive composer who lived in the depths of the Paris Opera House more than a hundred years ago," he said quickly. "Top that."

Rae's face when completely white.

And then, she passed out.


	3. Who Rae Thinks She Is

**_You guys make my day. Seriously. Thanks so much for reviewing. _**

**_As erik's angel will tell you, no good deed goes unpunished! Review enough, and you might just find yourself in the story!_**

**_Last update of the day folks! Enjoy!_**

**_Nico_**

* * *

"I hear you've made a friend."

Gerard looked up at the doctor, his eyebrows raised.

"Excuse me?" He asked the doctor.

Doctor Malone shuffled through her paperwork. "It seems you brought Miss Rae Browne back into the hospital last night."

Gerard nodded. "Yes…"

"And I would assume you had spoken with her before she had her episode?" Malone asked.

Gerard nodded again. "Episode?"

"Rae becomes overwhelmed easily," Doctor Malone explained.

"So I noticed." Gerard replied.

"What did the two of you talk about?"

Gerard shrugged. "Nothing in particular…"

"What caused her to pass out?"

"I'm not sure," Gerard answered.

"Was it the fact that you told her what you were here for?"

Gerard stared at the doctor. "How did you know that?"

Doctor Malone smiled. "There's not much that goes on here that I don't know about, Gerard."

"Who does she think she is?" He asked.

"You know I can't tell you that," Doctor Malone replied. "I will say, however, that the two of you have more in common than you realize."

"Yes, we both have severe identity issues." Gerard replied, standing up. "That's two hours." He announced.

"So it is. Gerard, there is one more thing."

He stopped on his way to the door. "Yes?"

"You took your medication this morning." The doctor told him knowingly. "Why today?"

Gerard sighed. "I'm tired of fighting," he replied.

"It couldn't be because something is here you'd like to stay for, could it?"

Gerard didn't answer.

Instead, he walked out of the office, hating constantly being under a microscope, with no action going unscrutinized.

* * *

Gerard's breath was coming evenly, indicating to Rae that he was asleep. She tip-toed over to the side of his bed, looking down at the man who was sleeping atop his comforter, fully clothed.

His black hair was mussed, falling in thick layers over his forehead and spilling onto his shoulders. His large hands were clasped over his mid-section, his legs crossed at the ankles. He wore his standard outfit of black and red with black boots laced up to mid-calf.

Black eye-makeup was smudged over his lids.

He made her heart skip a beat.

She lay her duffle bag at her feet and leaned to his ear.

"Gerard," she whispered, trying to gently lull him from sleep. "Gerard, wake up!"

His eyes fluttered open, becoming confused as he recognized the figure standing next to him.

"Rae?" He whispered back. "What are you doing in my room?"

"I'm leaving," she announced. "Come on, there isn't much time."

Gerard sat up. "Much time for what?"

Rae opened his closet, pulling his clothing from the racks. "You're coming with me," she informed him. "I can't do what I'm about to do without you."

Gerard climbed from the bed. "I'm not going anywhere, Rae." He told her. "I'm here to get well and continue with my life, not run away from my problems."

Rae rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me that they've already brainwashed you, Gerard. You don't have any problems and you certainly look well enough to me."

She continued to pull his clothes from the closet until it was empty. "Where is your suitcase?" She asked him.

"Under the bed." Gerard replied, catching her thin wrist as she reached under the bed to retrieve the item in question.

Rae gasped, looking up at him.

"I'm not going, Rae," he told her.

Rae licked her lips, caught off guard by being so close to Gerard.

"I think I have some information that might change your mind," she whispered.

"Really," Gerard drawled, releasing his hold on the woman. "And what information would that be?"

"Wait," Rae said, placing her hand in the air as if to physically halt him from speaking. "First I have to ask _you_ a question."

Gerard folded his arms across his chest, waiting.

Rae took a breath. "Gerard, do you really believe you are who you say you are?"

"Would I be here otherwise?" He asked.

Rae considered the question. Then, slowly, she lifted her hand once more, bringing it slowly to his face. Gerard watched her eyes soften as she allowed her fingertips to graze the surface of his smooth cheek.

"What are you doing?" He asked her breathlessly.

"I'm making sure that you're really him," Rae replied, trailing a thin finger down his throat and over his right shoulder.

"Him?" Gerard repeated.

"Yes," she replied. "Him…the Phantom of the Opera."

Gerard's breath caught in his throat. "Why?"

"Because," Rae replied. "I am Christine Daae."

Gerard took a step back.

"Gerard, don't freak out," Rae said. "I mean, I know I don't look like her…and maybe I'm not really her…but I remember everything about her…about him…and now you're here…"

"This isn't happening," he said slowly. "You're insane."

"Thanks," Rae scoffed, her voice becoming less warm. "I could say the same about you."

"Where are you going?" He asked, ignoring her.

"To the Opera House," Rae replied. "And you must come with me."

"Why? What is at the Opera House?"

"Our past, Gerard." She said. "The answers to all our riddles. The reason we are as we are. The way out."

"Out?" Gerard repeated.

"Out of this," she gestured around the room with her hands. "Out of insanity, out of these borrowed lives that were never really ours to begin with."

"I've already been to the Opera House Rae," Gerard replied. "And I am not eager to return."

Rae's eyes went wide. "You've been there?"

"Yes," he said. "That's what started all this."

"And that's where it will end," Rae said. "And that is why we must go. Together. To solve this mystery. To figure out why Erik and Christine have invaded our thoughts, minds, and bodies."

Hearing the name "Erik" caused a chill to creep up Gerard's spine. Never had he said the man's name aloud.

Hearing it from her lips was both frightening and exhilarating.

He sighed.

"What do you plan to do once you get there?" He asked her.

Rae shrugged. "I don't know," she confessed. "But I know that I must return. I owe it to her…to myself…to him…to you."

"This is madness." Gerard breathed.

Rae bent down and pulled Gerard's suitcase from under the bed. "You're coming with me, Gerard."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you'll always be tormented by the man in your head."

He looked down at her.

Then he placed the pile of clothing in the suitcase and slammed it shut.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he said, trying to ignore the smile spreading her face wide.


	4. Anywhere We Want

_**I thought I could leave this story alone for the rest of the night...**_

_**guess I was wrong.**_

_** Enjoy...**_

_**Nico**_

_**

* * *

**_

There was a part of Gerard that remained solely Gerard…a part of him that remained untouched by the Phantom of the Opera's memories and pain, the hollowness that still consumed him so many years later.

And the part of Gerard that was Gerard was screaming at him to turn around and walk back into the mental hospital.

Rae was just ahead of him, her dark form expertly maneuvering the thick brush that separated the hospital from the bustling streets of Paris.

Gerard, against his better judgment, continued to follow.

Eventually, they came to an old gate which rose several feet above both Gerard and Rae's heads. Without hesitation, Rae threw her duffle bag over the gate. It landed on the sidewalk on the other side with a muffled thud.

Gerard's suitcase followed.

"You've done this before," Gerard whispered to Rae, who smiled broadly in the darkness.

"I hope you can climb," Rae replied, quickly ascending the linked gate.

Gerard watched as Rae climbed, unable to avoid allowing his gaze to fall on the bright blue thong straps peeking out from her low-riding jeans.

She arched her head backwards, looking down at him.

"Take a picture," she said, still smiling.

Gerard blushed and quickly climbed over the fence.

It was as if that one small barrier protected a unique, isolated country…a country which varied deeply from the scene before Gerard.

For a moment, the activity in the streets caught him off guard. Cars whizzed by, taxis honked, lights flickered… and everywhere people were talking…laughing…yelling.

Soon, however Gerard found his body ease as it remembered living in these surroundings…drinking and talking and laughing and yelling right along with the rest of the crowd.

He pulled a cigarette out, lighting it with practiced ease.

Rae watched him, one eyebrow raised.

Gerard sighed, handing her a cigarette too.

He watched her light it, the flame illuminating her face for just a moment.

She looked even more beautiful now that they were off hospital grounds.

"Now what?" Gerard asked, clearing his throat and pushing the hair from his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Rae asked, exhaling and beginning to walk down the street.

"Well, we can't exactly go to the Opera House right this instant," Gerard said.

"Why not?" Rae asked.

"It's the middle of the night," Gerard replied, feeling obvious.

"So?" Rae asked, stopping to tie one of her boots, which had come undone.

"So…it's closed," Gerard continued.

"I'm sure there's a way in," Rae replied, standing and continuing her brisk pace.

"Whoa, wait…Rae," Gerard placed a hand on her shoulders, turning the young girl gently towards him. "Listen…I'm not quite ready to break and enter," he said. "I'm not exactly in the position to find trouble with the law…it's bad enough I left the hospital…"

"I leave the hospital all the time," Rae interrupted.

"Yes, but I actually want to be cured."

Rae shrugged out of Gerard's grasp. "What is that supposed to mean?" She asked lowly.

Gerard instantly wished he hadn't taken such a cheap shot.

"What do you think I'm trying to do right now, Gerard? Bake a cake? No! I'm trying to rid us of these memories…this emptiness that I have within my chest…and I know you have it too Gerard…I can see it hiding behind your eyes." She moved closer to him, her eye narrowed. "I know the loss you feel for her…you feel it in your very soul…I know because I feel the same loss for him…I mourn him every day…a man I have never met…"

"Rae…stop it," Gerard said softly, seeing the tears brimming on her eyelashes.

"We are _not_ crazy, Gerard," she said forcefully. "I've always known that I'm not…and now that fate has brought us together I am even more convinced that what is happening to us is very, very real…and the sooner you can accept that…and stop looking for a _cure_ and start looking for some _answers, _we'll both be better off."

Gerard regarded the angered woman before him.

She was right.

Completely right.

"Alright," Gerard relented. "But I still think it's been a long night."

Rae rolled her eyes. "Fine. What do you suggest we do? You and I are both Americans...and escaped mental patients…we don't exactly have anywhere to go…"

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken, Rae," Gerard said.

Rae smiled, pleased that Gerard's tone had become somewhat lighter.

"Where do we have to go, Gerard?" Rae asked.

"I'm a rock star, remember?" He replied, his lips curling into a half smile as he took her small hand in his large one. "A rich rock star...

We can go anywhere we want."


	5. Them, Not Us

**_Good morning guys!_**

**_So, here we go. I'm so glad to see some of my favorite reviewers back! _**

**_I hope that you guys like this...when I first started writing this, I contemplated posting it on Fiction Press, because I thought it didn't have enough POTO to post on this site...but, thenI realized that most of you wouldn't see it, and I've totally grown addicted to your lovely reviews. lol. _**

**_This story is quite different from my previous POTO phics, but I'm definately ready to take on a new perspective on things. I feel like the "Christine comes back to the Phantom" thing has been very played out, especially by me. I thought I'd take a stab at a plotlineI had never seen before, and I hope it's as refreshing for you to read as it has been for me to write so far. _**

**_On with the show!_**

**_Nico_**

* * *

****

Gerard pulled a pair of sunglasses from the inside pocket of his black blazer. Quickly, he placed them on his face, lighting another cigarette.

"You smoke too much," Rae informed him. "And I don't know if you realized, but the sun doesn't shine at one in the morning."

Gerard exhaled a plume of smoke in her direction, causing her to cough dramatically. "I don't know if _you_ realized, but my face has been splashed across every magazine on display here in Paris…and it's pretty well known that I've checked into a mental hospital…so I'd rather not be noticed."

"Oh, yeah…and the sunglasses are a _really_ good disguise," Rae told him sarcastically. "There's _no way_ people are going to be looking at the weirdo wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night."

Gerard pulled the sunglasses off and shoved them into his pocket. "You're really quite irritating," he informed her.

"Hey, don't be angry with me just because I'm right," Rae replied, stomping her feet and rubbing her arms. "Hurry up and finish that cigarette…I'm freezing and I want to go inside."

Gerard looked up at the huge hotel they were standing outside of. He had stayed here before, on his first world tour. He smirked to himself as he remembered how hard he had partied the last night he was inside these walls.

He threw his cigarette on the sidewalk.

"Finally," Rae said, opening the clear glass door for him.

Gerard stood motionless.

"Come on," Rae exasperated.

"You're pretty eager to spend my money," Gerard said, walking through the doorway with her on his heels.

"I have money," she informed him.

"Oh?" Gerard asked, ducking his head as the night security guard squinted at him as he walked by, no doubt trying to place his famous face.

"Yeah," Rae continued, looking up at him. He was obviously very uncomfortable.

Without thinking about it too much, Rae grasped his hand in hers. "My parents are rich," she finished.

Gerard looked down to where her tiny hand was folded neatly in his. Then he looked up at her face.

She blushed slightly and looked away from him, leading him determinedly to the front desk, where a nervous looking hotel clerk adjusted his tie, obviously aware of just who Gerard was.

"Good Evening!" The hotel clerk greeted them, more loudly than necessary. "And welcome back to the…"

"Shhh!" Rae exclaimed. "We're hiding from the press," she continued, squeezing Gerard's hand, indicating that she had the situation under control. "Now, listen…" she stopped to read the clerk's nametag, "Dennis…as Gerard's agent, I am required to do everything within my power to ensure he is not hounded by those endlessly irritating photographers," she continued. Gerard looked over at her, speechless.

Never would he have imagined the embodiment of Christine Daae to be so forceful and crafty…

But perhaps that was simply Rae's personality overcoming Christine's delicate demeanor.

"We would like a room…a big one…and complete discretion," Rae was saying to Dennis, who was nodding enthusiastically, looking as if he was a solider who had just been issued an incredibly important mission.

"Absolutely Ma'am," Dennis said quietly, typing unknown information into the computer.

After a few beeps and clicks, Dennis quickly placed two credit-card type keys into an envelope and slid them across the marble hotel counter. "You'll be in the penthouse," he informed them in a hushed whisper. "Please, feel free to utilize the back elevator…here," he slid a small silver key to them, "this will operate it...it's totally private."

Dennis came from behind the hotel desk. Rae stifled a laugh as she realized just how short the man was. "I shall bring your bags up for you," Dennis informed her.

"That won't be necessary, Dennis," Rae said. "He's famous, not incapable. Now, if you'll excuse us, Gerard needs his sleep."

"Of course," Dennis said, following them a bit. "And if you need anything," he pulled a crisp white card from his perfectly pressed suit, "please don't hesitate to call me…my cell phone number is on the bottom."

"Thank you, Dennis," Gerard said, following as Rae pulled him to the elevator.

* * *

Rae flipped on the lights to the penthouse. Immediately, the marble shone…the white carpeting looked like snow…leather furniture invited a seat…polished tables adorned with fruit and candies spread across the several rooms Gerard and she were about to call temporary home.

"Not bad," Rae announced. "I've seen better."

"So you were spoiled as a child," Gerard assumed, putting his suitcase down and lighting up again.

"Hardly," Rae said, immediately taking the cigarette from his lips and inhaling it herself. She looked pensive for a moment. "Although, lately, I find myself forgetting more and more of my own memories and replacing them with _hers_," she said.

Gerard nodded. "There are days when I cannot remember anything but the taunts of local children as they came to laugh at me as I sat in that cage…"

His voice trailed off at the end in a mixture of pity and sorrow.

"Well," Rae said softly. "I suppose you have it slightly worse than I do."

Gerard scoffed. "Slightly?" He asked, flopping down on the end of a couch and leaning his head back.

Rae watched him, feeling sympathetic. She slowly sat beside him, handing him back his cigarette. "It will be alright now," she told him. "We're going to take our lives back."

Gerard lifted his head and looked over at her. "Why do you think this is happening to us, Rae?" He asked softly.

Rae shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I do know that it's happening for a reason. There must be something we have to do…"

She stopped, looking up at Gerard for long enough to make them both uncomfortably shift positions.

"It's strange," she said quietly. "I feel such a connection to you…a connection that goes deeper than I've ever experienced with others."

Gerard nodded. "I feel the same," he told her.

Rae moved slightly closer to him. "And I don't know if it's her pull to him…or my own pull to you," she admitted, lowering her eyelids, embarrassed that she had basically admitted attraction to the man sitting beside her. "It's confusing," she finished.

"Do you remember the night she left him?" Gerard asked.

Rae nodded, lifting her now damp eyes to his. "It's the memory that torments me the most," she said, close to sobbing.

"After she left him, he was destroyed," Gerard told Rae. "That is when the memories become truly terrible," he said.

Rae bit her lip, unable to prevent feelings of guilt from overwhelming her.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Why are you apologizing?" Gerard asked, his heart aching at the site of the fat tears rolling down Rae's perfect face. "It wasn't you."

Rae shook her head. "But it was _her_…she destroyed him…and to be honest, I'm still not certain why. And now her mistake is my cross to bear."

Gerard bowed his head.

Before he could stop himself, he felt his hand rise and come to rest on hers, his thumb gently rubbing the back of her cold hand.

Rae looked up, locking eyes with his. "Gerard," she whispered.

"Yes?" He whispered back. They had moved impossibly close to each other. So close, in fact, he could feel the slight puff of her breath on his face.

For a moment, Rae's eyes slid shut, her lips coming to brush slightly against his.

The shock of electricity that moved through them both at the contact caused Rae to gasp.

And back up.

"We can't," she said, pulling her hand from his and standing. "This isn't us…this is them…and we can't confuse the situation any further than it already is."

"Rae," Gerard said, standing as well.

"No…not now," she said, holding up her hand again. "We're confused…and this is certainly not the way to remedy the situation."

"Or perhaps it is," He said, moving closer to her again, pulling her gently towards him.

It seemed, at least for the moment, that the elusive Phantom of the Opera had taken control.

But Christine Daae was coy, the memory of her beloved Phantom too intense to indulge tonight.

"No," she shook her head again, pulling from his clutches and moving towards an extra bedroom. "Goodnight, Gerard," she said. "Tomorrow, we go to the Opera House."

And with that, she shut her door, leaving Gerard to face the fight to maintain control over himself alone.


	6. The Memory of Box Five

**_Enjoy! _**

**_Nico_**

* * *

"It seems bigger than I have memory of," Rae said, standing on the steps of the Paris Opera House.

Gerard began to climb the impressive marble stairs. "They added a wing in the 50's," he said to her. "So technically, it is bigger."

He suddenly became aware that Rae was no longer following him. He turned to look down at her.

She wore a clingy, black skirt with slits up to her hip, which hugged her curves temptingly. Black, high-laced boots were evident against the white of her leg. An equally tight black turtleneck completed the outfit.

Her thick curls had been fastened artfully about her face; large framed black sunglasses hid her green eyes from the world.

She bit her rouged lip nervously.

Truly, she was a vision.

"Come on, Rae," Gerard urged. "Isn't this what you've been waiting for?"

Rae sighed, clutching her skirt in her hand and closing the distance between her and Gerard. "It's overwhelming," she stated. "And I find that, lately, there isn't much that doesn't completely overwhelm me."

"I suppose that would be one of Christine's major downfalls," Gerard said, clasping Rae's hand encouragingly. "She was never one for bravery."

Rae half smiled. Gerard looked very much the part of 'famous rock star' today. Earlier, he had gone out, outfitting himself with several new items, including the tight black leather pants he was wearing now. A crisp white shirt hung open over a black tee, which did nothing to hide the muscles of his chest.

His black hair was stylishly mussed; his dark eyes once again outlined in black.

Together, they looked impossibly sleek and stylish.

The entrance to the Opera House was a powerful site. Rae clutched Gerard's hand as they entered the old building, the only sound the click of their shoes against the highly polished marble.

"Gerard!" A surprised, high-pitched female voice exclaimed, hurrying closer to the pair of visitors. "Welcome back!"

Rae watched as the statuesque blond woman hurried over to Gerard, kissing him enthusiastically on each cheek.

Rae could not help but feel jealousy at the closeness Gerard obviously shared with this woman.

"Bethany," Gerard said the woman's name warmly. "Great to see you again."

"Likewise," Bethany purred, a French accent lilting her voice. "How are you feeling, darling?"

Gerard nodded. "Better, thank you. Nothing that a small sojourn couldn't fix."

"And who is your friend," Bethany asked, looking at Rae.

Was there distain in her voice? Rae couldn't tell.

"This is Rae Browne," Gerard introduced the women. "Rae, this is Bethany Page…manager of the Paris Opera House."

"Pleased to meet you," Rae said tersely, not really feeling pleased at all.

Bethany nodded at Rae, and then returned her attention to Gerard, looping a thin arm through the crook of his. "What brings you back here, Gerard?" Bethany asked. "We don't have you on the bill until the summertime."

Rae followed Gerard and Bethany as the walked across the lobby to where Bethany's lavish office stood. Once inside her office, Bethany immediately lit a cigarette, offering one to Gerard, who took it willingly.

"Rae has never seen the Opera House…I felt obligated to share its beauty with her," Gerard explained smoothly.

Bethany delicately plucked a piece of tobacco from her tongue, eyeing Rae once more. "How lovely of you, Gerard, taking one of your fans out for an exciting afternoon," she said, her voice condescending.

"I am _not_ one of his fans," Rae informed Bethany.

"Oh?" Bethany asked, sounding interested and looking back to Gerard. "Has the most eligible bachelor in the music industry finally decided to settle down?"

Gerard laughed. "Not quite," he said.

For some reason, the answer irritated Rae.

"Do you mind if we have a look around, Bethany?" Gerard asked, clearing his throat.

Bethany extended her arms. "Be my guest," she said. "The Paris Opera House is always open to you."

"Thank you," Gerard said, extending his hand to Rae.

She didn't take it.

"I'll stop in before we leave," Gerard informed Bethany.

"Have a good time," Bethany said, kissing his cheeks again.

"Come on, Gerard," Rae said impatiently, wishing that the French woman didn't feel the need to constantly touch Gerard.

"You didn't like her," Gerard said to Rae once Bethany was out of earshot.

"I didn't say that," Rae replied.

"You didn't have to," Gerard said.

"Look, it's not _me_ that's so jealous. It's _her,_" Rae said, for once glad for the scapegoat that was Christine Daae.

"Sure, sure," Gerard teased.

"Where are we going," Rae asked, changing the subject.

Gerard sighed. "I thought, first, I'd like to go up to Box Five."

Rae shuddered. "Okay," she said, her voice sounding slightly fearful.

"Rae," Gerard said, extending his hand to her.

She hesitated.

"Come on," he soothed. "This is what you came here for, right?"

Rae nodded, grasping his hand. "I'm afraid, Gerard," she admitted.

Gerard nodded. "You don't have to be," he told her. "I'm here."

* * *

The back stairs leading to box five had been re-carpeted. It was the first thing both Rae and Gerard noticed as the made their was through the winding path leading to the phantom's box.

Rae shivered as they reached the heavily curtained entrance to the elusive box.

"It feels so lonely," she said, goose bumps rising on her arms.

"It was a lonely place," Gerard agreed, pulling back the velvet curtains.

There, as if no time had passed at all, was Box Five.

Gerard sighed audibly. "He watched her from here," he said after a moment. "He fell in love with her from these seats."

"She could see him," Rae piped up. "He was always there…watching her…"

Suddenly, a gust of wind whipped through the theater, chilling both Gerard and Rae.

"What was that?" Rae asked.

"I don't know," Gerard admitted.

Slowly, the pair became aware of a soft, haunting melody.

It started out as a few simple piano chords and eventually swelled into a full song.

"Don Juan," Rae identified the overture correctly.

"Where is it coming from?" Gerard wondered aloud.

Rae walked further into the box, resting her hands on the gilded ledge of the railing.

"It's his spirit," Rae announced. "I can feel it…trapped behind these walls."

"Trapped?" Gerard repeated.

Rae nodded. "That is what we have to do, Gerard." She said forcefully, turning to face him.

"What?" Gerard asked.

"We must free them," she said softly. "They are trapped here…trapped within us. And once their souls are free, so we will be."

"How?" Gerard asked.

Rae shrugged, feeling helpless. "I don't know," she said, tears threatening to spill over her cheeks once more.

Suddenly, Rae was gripped with a flashback.

Her entire body went rigid as the painful memories of her past took control of her senses.

"_Take her…forget me…forget all of this…"_

_Christine felt herself being pulled away from the Phantom…away from the warmth of his lips…away from the bravery that had brought her mouth to his. _

_Raoul was beside her, pulling her into the small boat she had shared so many times with Erik. _

_She watched as Erik stumbled back up the shore of his home, the anguish apparent in his entire body…the hunch of his shoulders…the gasp of his voice…_

_A voice began to cry out in her mind…_

_Get out of the boat!_

_Return to him!  
_

_You belong to him!_

_Yet she remained by Raoul's side. _

_Dependable Raoul, who would never let harm fall her. _

_She looked back once…_

_In time to see Erik shattering the mirror that would never lead him to her again. _

* * *

Rae shot up in the dark, her skin covered with a thin layer of sweat.

"Gerard?" She called anxiously.

A dark figure approached her bed, sitting next to her.

"I'm here," Gerard whispered, bringing a cool cloth to her head.

"What happened?" Rae asked.

"You fainted," Gerard said, smoothing the cloth down her cheeks. "Again."

"Dammit," Rae exclaimed. "Damn these memories! Damn Christine! And Damn Erik!"

She fell back on the pillows, bringing the heels of her hands to her eyes, applying pressure to the pounding that existed there. "Where am I?" She muttered from under her hands.

"Back in the hotel," Gerard said softly.

Something about his voice caused Rae to look up at him.

"What's the matter?" She asked.

"Something has happened, Rae," Gerard admitted.

"What?" She asked nervously.

Gerard stood up slowly, turning on the light.

Rae gasped as she saw rivers of black eye-makeup cascading down his cheeks.

"Gerard!" She exclaimed.

"Rae," he replied. "I've been cured."


	7. Cured?

**_Enjoy!_**

**_-Nico _**

* * *

****

"Cured?" Rae repeated, her voice slightly edgy. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Gerard moved over to the large windows in the bedroom, overlooking the sparkling night-lights of Paris.

"It happened in the Opera House…all my memories…all the identification I had with him…it's gone." He said quietly…

almost woefully.

"How?" Rae asked, coming up behind him.

Gerard turned around.

He was obviously distraught.

"I don't know, Rae," he said. "All I know is that I no longer carry with me the Phantom's mind."

Rae looked at him.

It was true.

The only pull she felt towards him was her own.

"It was when we were in Box Five," she said suddenly. "That rush of air. He left you. You brought him home."

Gerard raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that?" He asked her.

Rae shrugged. "I feel it," she replied.

"And you still have her memories?" He asked her.

Rae nodded. "Yes," she confirmed. "But it's getting easier to distinguish between her and me."

"Who's here now?" Gerard asked.

"I am," Rae replied, locking eyes with him.

She held his stare, even as his hand rose to fall on her hair. He threaded a curl between his fingers, allowing the silky strand to loop and fall between his pale digits.

He brushed the back of his knuckles against Rae's smooth cheek, the sight of her eyes sliding closed almost more tempting than the heat he felt rising from her body.

"Rae," he whispered. "You must let her go."

"I don't know how," Rae replied.

"Something happened to me when I was standing in his footprints," Gerard said suddenly. "A terrible feeling of entrapment…a feeling that I was all at once home and imprisoned. And just before you fainted, I felt an incredible sensation of relief…of a return to myself."

Rae listened, watching as Gerard relived the moments.

"Yet I was overwhelmed with sadness," he continued. "I had identified with that man for so long…I had almost felt honored that he had chosen me as his vessel. That he had shared his torments with me."

He grasped Rae's hands in his own.

"And I felt the purest, most genuine love for Christine…" He said softly. "I have never experienced a more powerful emotion. And now it's gone…and I feel emptier than ever."

Rae licked her lips.

"But aren't you happy, Gerard? To be back to normal? To be yourself?" She asked.

Gerard raised his eyes to her. "I've never known what normal is, Rae…and I certainly don't know myself anymore."

"You should be pleased, Gerard," Rae informed him, pulling her hands from his grasp. "Because now you can return to your life as it was when you left."

Gerard considered her suggestion.

Back to his life.

Back to the drugs…the late nights, the bad decisions…the endless touring, the false adoration of millions of people who barely knew him.

Back to the way things had been six months ago.

"And what will you do, Rae?" He asked quietly.

Rae looked out the window. "I must bring her back to him," she said calmly. "They must be reunited."

Gerard stood behind her, allowing his hand to come to rest on her shoulder.

She still wore the black outfit she had fainted in. Yet Gerard could feel her warmth through the thin material.

He let his other hand rest on her other shoulder. He could hear the sharp intake of Rae's breath, which she let out slowly as his hands cascaded down her arms until his fingers entwined with hers.

Rae allowed her eyes to slide shut, reveling in the feeling of warmth from Gerard's body. He was now pressed up behind her, his chest against her back, his hips slightly higher than her rear.

Before he could stop himself, he dipped his head, allowing his lips to rest in the crook of Rae's neck. She tensed, wholly unprepared for the heated feelings that were beginning to pulse from what felt like her core.

"Gerard," she whispered, licking her lips. "What are you doing?"

He spun her around slowly, looking down into the depths of her green eyes.

He placed his crooked pointer finger under Rae's small chin and lifted her face to his.

She looked up at him…his pale skin…his heavily lashed eyes…

For a moment, she forgot where she was…

Forgot about Christine…

Gerard moved in closer…

Rae closed her eyes…

And then there was a knock at the door.

Gerard instantly pulled away, looking over to the hotel door.

Rae watched breathlessly as he walked over to the door, stopping to pick up a white envelope that had been shoved under the door.

"What is it?" Rae asked.

Gerard opened the door and looked out into the hallway.

Empty.

He came back into the room, carrying with him the envelope.

"Open it," Rae told him.

Gerard flipped the envelope over in his hand, slowly pulling it open.

He barely noticed the wax insignia that held the envelope closed.

He pulled out a sheet of paper and read.

He raised his eyes to Rae once he had finished.

"What does it say?" She asked.

He handed her the letter.

_I thank you for your body…_

_And your mind…_

_But now it is time to finish it…_

_Bring Christine back to me…_

_Tomorrow night by the hour of midnight…_

_I will be waiting for her…_

_In the darkness that was once my home._

_Yours in life and death, _

_O.G._


	8. The Night Before

**_Yes, I know a lot of you would have liked to see the phantom remain "in" Gerard for a little longer..._**

**_to that I say...patience._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_Nico_**

* * *

The letter fell from Rae's hand with a soft flutter.

"He's back," she said, her voice void of emotion.

Gerard ran a hand through his hair, the last several moments of closeness between he and Rae still surging through his body.

"Who's O.G?" He asked.

Rae raised her eyes to his. "It's him…you…I mean…the Phantom…the Opera Ghost." She wrapped her arms around her body, suddenly feeling impossibly cold. "And he wants me back."

"You're not actually thinking of going back there, are you?" Gerard asked, disbelief in his voice.

Rae shrugged. "I suppose I am," she replied.

"This is ridiculous, Rae," Gerard said suddenly. "Even if this letter is from…_him…_what's to say he doesn't mean you harm?"

"He would never hurt Christine," Rae replied defending the man she had never met.

"How do you know that?" Gerard asked.

"I just know," she replied.

"I can't let you do this, Rae," Gerard continued.

"Why not?"

"Because." Gerard fought for words. "Because it isn't safe."

"You don't have anything to do with this anymore, Gerard," Rae informed him.

"Of course I do!" Gerard protested.

"No, you don't," Rae disagreed. "He has left you…you are no longer obligated to him."

"That doesn't mean I'm just going to walk away," he said.

"You should," Rae told him. "He doesn't need you."

"He doesn't need you either," Gerard protested. "Look…whatever you may believe…this man…he cannot possibly be real."

"Then who sent the letter?"

Gerard pushed his hair from his eyes again.

He had to admit, the entire situation was spiraling out of his control.

"If you insist on going, I'm coming with you," he announced.

"You don't have to do that," Rae said softly.

"Yes, I do."

"Don't you want to get back to your life, Gerard?" Rae asked again.

"What is your big fixation with my life?" He said suddenly. "Do you really think it was that glamorous? Do I appear _that_ eager to get back to it?"

His harsh tone caught Rae off guard.

"Why are you getting so angry?" She asked him. "You're the one who wanted to be 'cured!"

Gerard sighed. "My life was a mess before all this happened to me," he confessed.

"It seemed like you were successful," Rae said quietly.

"We were," Gerard affirmed. "But I had nothing. And when all this happened to me…I was, at first, frightened and angry…but for a brief period of time…I felt like I had a purpose…"

His voice sounded so hurt, Rae was inclined to grasp his hand.

Instead, she sat down slowly on the edge of one of the plush sofas, once again completely overwhelmed.

Gerard moved to stand in front of her.

"I intend to see this through to the end," Gerard informed her.

"Why?" Rae asked.

"Because," Gerard said. "Because any man who would come back from the dead for the woman he loves deserves all the help he can get."

* * *

Erik paced the floor of what was once his lair. Angrily, he picked up paper after paper from the ground.

It seemed that his former home did not remain as secretive as he would have liked.

It had been difficult to break free from the body he had been granted. He still wasn't completely certain how he had done it, but he was here now, back in his former skin.

Skin that had cruelly remained marred, even more than a hundred years later.

It seemed that whatever powers saw fit to give him a second chance at life did not see the need to repair the disfigurement he had always been forced to endure.

The image of the girl that now held Christine's soul captive flashed before Erik's eyes. She looked nothing like Christine, yet when he was inside of Gerard's body, he could see Christine's spark behind the green eyes of Rae Browne.

He had to get Christine back. There was simply nothing more to it.

He had come back for a reason…he had been given a second chance…and now it was time for redemption.

* * *

Gerard came in from the balcony, straightening his hair haphazardly with his fingers.

Quietly, he walked past the couch where Rae slept.

For the first time in a while, Gerard had the urge to drink.

He moved over to the fully stocked bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

Then, he walked back over to a plush chair facing the couch.

Mechanically, he sat, easing back into the chair and lighting a cigarette.

He could barely make out Rae's features; he only knew that her brow was knitted together as she slept as if something was troubling her.

Gerard inhaled deeply, allowing the plume of smoke he exhaled to hide Rae's figure from him briefly.

Several times, he brought the glass of whiskey to his lips, only to lower it again without taking a drink.

He crossed his legs, the slim black pants he wore hitching up just slightly to reveal his black boots, which were in desperate need of a polishing.

"Do you ever sleep?"

The question came from Rae, who hadn't moved save opening her eyes.

Gerard inhaled again, the silence in the room interrupted by the sound of the paper on his cigarette burning.

"Not really," he admitted.

"You look tired," Rae replied.

"I am," he told her.

For several long moments, neither spoke.

Gerard lifted and lowered the glass of whiskey once more, his eyes never once leaving Rae's.

She looked impossibly beautiful in the moonlight that was streaming in from the balcony.

Her outfit was simple…a black tank top and small white shorts…but it was what she wasn't wearing that drew Gerard's gaze past her eyes.

Her hair tumbled down her back and over her shoulder, looping around the arm she had tucked underneath her head.

It looked like living fire against her paleness.

Rae's eyes burned as she fought the urge to blink, instead wanting only to stare at the man sitting across from her.

He looked impossibly dark and imposing where he sat, a cigarette in one hand, the other clasping a glass of amber liquid.

His eyes were shaded, as always, by the makeup he either applied every day or never took off. Tonight, he had added a bit of red shading to the outside of the kohl liner, making him seem all the more ethereal.

He wore all black tonight, making him look as if he was one with chair he sat upon.

Before she realized what she was doing, Rae stood slowly, making her way over to where Gerard sat.

She stood next to him, the top of her thigh inadvertently brushing against the back of his fingers as they tightened around the glass.

She reached out and caressed the side of his face, watching as his eyes slid closes against the sensation.

"Gerard," she said softly.

"Yes?"

"Will you kiss me?" She asked.

Gerard looked up at her.

She looked fearful…younger than she was.

"I just…I just need…" she stammered.

"It's alright," Gerard said, dropping his cigarette into the untouched glass of whiskey and standing. "I understand."

He stood facing her, watching as tears formed on her lashes.

He used his thumb to gently wipe the tears away as the leaked down her face.

Then, he lowered his mouth to hers, allowing his lips to gently press against hers.

It was a kiss of promise…a kiss that spoke of protection…of understanding…

And as gently as it began, it intensified. Rae whimpered as she accepted Gerard's velvet tongue into her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers clutching at his dark shirt.

She felt his large hands roam down her back, stopping briefly to cup her rear.

As she pressed further against him, Gerard made a sound akin to a growl and pulled her even closer, pushing the breath from her body in a whoosh.

So involved in the kiss were the two of them that they failed to see the dark figure looming just outside the balcony doors.


	9. Night Visitor

**_A short, transitional chapter here. _**

**_Most of you remember that I'm in the city in recording sessions over the weekends, so I don't ordinarily update friday-sunday. _**

**_Mind the rating!  
_**

**_Nico_**

**_

* * *

_**

Looking back, neither Gerard nor Rae would know who led whom to the lush bed Rae had been sleeping in alone since checking into the posh hotel.

All Rae knew now was that Gerard was on top of her, his dark shirt opened just slightly to reveal his pale chest.

His black hair hung down, tickling her nose. In between passionate kisses, Rae pushed the hair from his eyes, looking past the golden pigment into the darkness that was Gerard.

Neither one noticed the rush of air that came with the opening of the balcony door.

For several moments, Erik stood at the foot of the bed, unable to grasp what he was witnessing.

There, laying on her back beneath the body he had formerly inhabited was _his _Christine.

So engrossed were the two lovers that they didn't even notice him standing at the foot of the bed.

Until he spoke.

"Insolent boy! Slave of fashion!" Erik bellowed, finding it terribly ironic that the words he had spoken a century ago still held meaning.

Gerard spun off of Rae, who clutched at the silk sheets, trying desperately to find her discarded top.

"Who are you?" Demanded Gerard, moving towards the cloaked figure. "How did you get in here?"

Erik sort of half smiled, his eyes on only Rae.

"Hello, Christine," he said softly.

"Her name is Rae," Gerard nearly growled, feeling suddenly and incredibly protective of the woman shivering with fear on the bed where just moments ago he had held her in his arms.

Erik cocked an eyebrow. "Rae?" He repeated. "But you are mistaken, Sir," he directed his voice at Gerard. "You were just _fondling_ none other than Miss Christine Daae."

Rae pulled the sheets closer around her body, the mention of Christine's name sending a chill up her spine.

Erik slowly moved closer to the bed with Gerard on his heels.

"You have to leave," Gerard informed Erik.

Erik turned to face him, the coldness in his eyes piercing Gerard like an arrow.

"Must I?" Erik asked lowly.

"Yes," Gerard replied, standing his ground. "Now."

Faster than lightning, Erik's hand shot out to clasp Gerard's throat.

"Stop it!" Shrieked Rae, standing, placing a hand on Erik's shoulder.

Erik barely registered the touch as he squeezed against Gerard's windpipe.

Soon, Gerard's feet left the floor as Erik raised him. His face turned red as he choked against the pressure on his neck.

"You'll kill him!" Rae yelled, more loudly.

It seemed this was enough to grasp Erik's attention.

He looked over to Rae, his mouth curving into a sensuous smile.

The last thing Gerard heard before he blacked out was Erik's voice whispering his beloved's name once more.

* * *

He was dying.

He was certain of it.

He opened his eyes, feeling as if razors were being dragged across his lids.

He groaned, pulling himself to a sitting position. The room spun as he raggedly inhaled a deep breath, coughing against the protest of his sore windpipe.

He stood and looked around.

Gerard was alone in the hotel room.

He caught a glimpse of himself in a large gilded mirror as he moved about the hotel room, aimlessly getting re-dressed.

Dark purple bruises stood out against the paleness of his throat.

And Rae was nowhere to be found.

Gerard quickly re-donned the clothing that had been carelessly strewn about the room.

He knew exactly where he had to go…

Even before he found the letter addressed to him.

_Fondest Greetings,_

_By now, you have no doubt woken, with a headache I do not envy you for. _

_I thank you for watching over Christine, although I will say that you took liberties I myself have yet to enjoy._

_But, because you allowed me to coexist within you for so long, and because you have brought Christine back to me, I shall allow you to live. _

_But be warned. Should you interfere with the course of events as they should execute, you will find yourself in a world of trouble. _

_Sincerely, _

_O.G._

The letter fluttered to the ground, hitting the marble flooring just as the door slammed behind Gerard.


	10. To Where She Is

**_At this point, I should prolly mention that the Erik of my story is just as jaded and angry and socially crippledas the Erik we are introduced to in Leroux's novel..._**

**_It's important to mention that before this chapter. _**

**_And also, a special thanks to all of you for reviewing. I know this story is weird and sort of different from what you're used to from me, but I appreciate your "sticking with me."_**

**_Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I promise to continue to write as long as you continue to bring such happiness to me!_**

**_Enough of that...on with the show!_**

**_-Nico_**

* * *

****

Leaves scattered the damp cobblestones that lined a path once used for carriages that dropped the well-to-do off at the Paris Opera House.

Gerard shivered as a cold breeze lifted and lowered his hair.

It was the middle of the night, and there was no life to be seen.

No life, that is, besides the increasingly deviant music that grew louder the nearer Gerard drew to the Opera House.

Rae's voice resonated in his head, reminding him that just because the Opera House was closed to the public did not mean there wasn't a way inside.

After all, The Phantom of the Opera had most certainly brought Rae back here.

Gerard was sure of it.

He quickly climbed the steps leading to the gilded doors of the Opera House, giving a tug on the brass door knob, just in case.

Of course, it was locked.

He backed up, surveying the situation before him.

Just above the door was a small window.

A window just large enough to fit a human body through.

Without thinking, Gerard quickly climbed the stone siding of the Opera House, silently thanking his years of jumping on and off of amps while onstage for preparing him for this moment.

He teetered on a precarious ledge, close enough now to the window to press against it lightly.

It moved.

Gerard applied more pressure and was rewarded with the window suddenly swinging open.

He scrambled to the entrance, swinging one leg inside, followed by the other. Once he was sitting on the window ledge he dropped, landing in the foyer of the Paris Opera house.

For a moment, he simply stood, trying to ignore the golden stares of the hundreds of nearly ancient statues that adorned the lavish theater.

The music continued, considerably louder now. Every so often, the tune would halt and there would be silence.

It was the moments of silence that were worst…it was then that Gerard's mind imagined the worst for Rae.

After all, he had once possessed the memories of the Phantom of the Opera…and although those memories were now becoming dark, he could still remember the surges of passion and anguish he felt over Miss Christine Daae.

His legs moved of their own accord, bringing him through the winding passageways of the Opera House's backstage area and to the entrance of the catacombs.

He stood at the piece of wall he knew hid a stairwell. Dewey had discovered it the night Gerard had realized he was the phantom.

Gerard took a deep breath, pushing aside the memories of being drunk and drugged that night. He pressed gently against the wall, activating the ancient rigging system.

A rush of cold air immediately smacked Gerard in the face.

For this journey, he was going to need a cigarette.

* * *

Rae shifted uncomfortably in the plush velvet chair Erik had tied her to.

For the last hour or two he had barely spoke, instead preferring to sit at the large black piano that sat on a platform of sorts.

The surroundings were bleak; Rae took in the site of the murky waters before her, the toppled, dusty furniture, the manuscripts that littered the damp floor.

But most of all she watched the man whose back was to her as he plunked ferociously at the keys of the old piano.

Every once in a while he would pause, but never looked back at her.

Finally, in a moment of silence, Rae spoke.

"If this is how you treated her, I'm not surprised she left you," she said, forcing her voice to sound cold and firm, even though she was petrified.

Erik finally turned to look at her, his eyes burning with anger.

He rose, walking gracefully over to her.

"Do not speak of what you do not know," he warned lowly.

Rae suddenly felt indignant…angry with this man she knew only through blurry memories and passionate stolen moments that Christine managed to salvage during her relationship with the recluse.

"Oh I know," she said, bravery fueling her voice. "I know how you murdered Joseph Buquet and Piangi…I know how you kidnapped her and brought her down here to become your bride…I know how you nearly killed her fiancé and wept as she left with him!"

Her voice had taken on a fevered pitch, the frenzy she felt too powerful to mask in tone.

"Silence!" Roared Erik, kicking an already ousted stool.

"Untie me," Rae countered, just as violently.

For several moments, Erik stood before her. Both of their chests heaved with the efforts of their strong words.

And then, he knelt down, slowly undoing the thick ropes from around her ankles and wrists.

Once she was free, Erik turned from her again, running his fingers through his hair.

Rae rubbed the feeling of the rope from her skin and stood slowly.

"What are you hoping to accomplish?" She asked him quietly.

Erik turned to face her. "You belong with me," he told her matter-of-factly.

"No," she shook her head. "I do not."

"But that's where you're wrong, Christine," Erik replied, moving towards her once more. "You've been brought back to me…to right the wrongs of both our pasts."

Rae inhaled sharply as the Phantom of the Opera invaded her senses. The part of her that was Christine felt an overwhelming desire to envelop herself in his arms, to succumb to the safety that only her angel of music could provide.

But the part of her that was Rae screamed for retreat…to get as far away from this ghost of a man who was obviously still fighting a war with his inner demons…a battle that he had already fought and lost.

"I'm not completely Christine," she said, hoping to bring some realism to this very surrealistic situation.

"You will learn to be," Erik replied.

She watched in horrific excitement as his gloved hand roamed to her face, to caress the satin of her cheek.

"Don't touch her."

The voice was angry…deep…resonating.

Rae opened eyes that had slid shut at Erik's touch.

She looked over to the other side of the lowered gate.

There stood Gerard in ankle-deep water, his hands grasping the iron bars.

Erik looked over to Rae, his mouth curled into a half smile.

"It's the great cosmic mystery," he announced loudly enough for Gerard to hear him. "How even the darkest moments of history repeat themselves," he finished.

Fear clutched at Rae's heart.

Especially when she saw Erik lift the coiled rope from under the murky water.


	11. Believing In Christine

**_This is a real short chapter, but I promise that I'll post another one today!_**

**_-Nico_**

* * *

The iron gate lifted simultaneously with Rae's warning scream, which caused both men to look back at her as she stood on the shores of Erik's underground lair.

She hurried towards where Erik stood in ankle deep water, his right hand clutching the rope.

"Gerard," Rae rasped, the cold of the lair taking it toll on her slender body. "Don't come any closer," she finished.

Gerard ignored her, walking pointedly under the gate, closer to the man with a noose in his hand.

"Let her go," he said, keeping his voice threatening and low.

"Why would I do that, Monsieur?" Erik countered, surprised by the bravery of this strangely dressed man.

"Because you can't win her love by making her your prisoner," Gerard said.

Erik smiled slowly. He had heard such claims before.

"On the contrary," Erik said. "I believe I already have the love of Christine."

"Please, stop," Rae said, shivering.

"But she _is not Christine!_" Gerard yelled.

"She is the closest thing to Christine I have!" Erik bellowed back.

Gerard stepped back, Erik's admission painfully truthful.

"And you are willing to kill for her?" Gerard asked, nodding towards the rope in Erik's hand.

"I have before," Erik replied darkly. "I will not lose her again."

"Then you will have to kill me," Gerard said, loosening his collar.

Rae gasped. "Gerard!" She said, pleading with one word.

"You would die for her?" Erik asked.

Gerard looked from the man before him to Rae.

She stood, her face stained with tears. Her hair flowed about her pale face.

She was beautiful, even in the most desperate of situations.

Gerard locked his eyes with hers.

Oceans of emotions flowed between the two. Feelings that words could not express.

Fear. Hope. Love. Sadness.

"Yes," Gerard said softly. "I believe I would."

Erik didn't move for a moment.

And then, he growled, swinging the lasso in Gerard's direction.

"No!" Rae screamed at the same time, grasping onto Erik's arm just as he was about to release the rope, causing his aim to be severely deterred.

The noose landed several feet to the right of Gerard, whose eyes were on Rae.

Erik looked down at Rae, who still clutched his bicep with both her hands.

He turned slightly, gently pressing his palm to her cheek.

Jealously burned within Gerard, yet since it seemed Rae was not in immediate danger, he remained still.

Rae looked up at Erik.

Christine Daae swelled within Rae's body, the touch of Erik clearly too much to ignore.

She raised her hand in response, bringing her cold fingertips down the side of his masked face.

"Christine," Erik said softly. "I love you."

Rae smiled.

Slowly, Erik lowered his lips to hers, pulling her against his body in a crushing embrace.

Gerard watched as they kissed, his world slowly dissolving around him.

He watched as Rae's hands came up to clutch at the Phantom's hair.

He watched as the Phantom's hands came down to grasp her waist.

He watched as Rae pulled back, her face smiling.

And then, he watched as she slid away from the Phantom, her eyes rolling back in her head, her body crashing limply into the shallow lake all three stood in.


	12. Believing In Christine Part II

**_Another short one, but it's basically just a continuation of the last..._**

**_Erik's Angel...how did you become so clever? ;)_**

**_-Nico_**

* * *

"Rae!" Gerard yelled, hurrying over to where the Phantom of the Opera knelt in water, holding the woman's limp form close to his body.

"Let go of her," Gerard demanded.

Erik rose to his full six feet, clutching Rae in his arms like a child. Her head hung back, her mouth slightly open.

"She needs medical attention," Gerard continued forcefully. "Surely you don't intend to keep her down here to die!"

In truth, Gerard was fully aware of Rae's fainting spells; he had no way of knowing how dire her situation was.

But, he hoped that the urgency his words brought to the situation would be enough to convince the Phantom to release Rae to his care.

Although, from the way she had kissed the Phantom, Gerard wasn't certain that's what she would truly want.

Erik seemed to consider his options. He looked down at the woman in his arms and back to Gerard, who stood, his very being seething with desperation.

"You try my patience," Gerard growled, becoming increasingly worried over the strange blue tint Rae's skin was taking on.

Erik didn't have a chance to respond.

Wind of an incredible force suddenly whipped through the lair.

Both Gerard and Erik fought to stand still against the force of the air stream. Water from the lake splashed them both.

And then, a brilliant white light forced it's way into the darkness of the depths of the opera house in an explosion of radiance.

Just as suddenly as the atmosphere had changed, it returned to normal, save the quick breaths of both Gerard and Erik.

"Erik?"

The voice, which sounded like a bell, came from where Gerard had entered.

Both Erik and Gerard turned.

Standing beneath the still raised, dripping iron gates, was a beautiful woman dressed in all white.

She was pale and obviously confused.

But the spark of recognition that flared across Erik's face told Gerard exactly who she was.

Christine.

Christine walked slowly through the water, her face contorted in confusion and pain as she regarded the woman in Erik's arms.

"Who is that?" She asked, her voice lilting against the cavernous walls.

"Christine?" Erik said, disbelieving his eyes.

Gerard moved closer to Erik, holding his arms out to receive the unconscious Rae.

Wordlessly, Erik gently handed Rae to Gerard, his eyes locked on Christine.

"Christine, is it you?" He asked quietly.

Christine nodded.

Gerard watched, clutching Rae's cold body to his own, as Erik moved closer to Christine, dwarfing her small frame with his height.

Christine looked up at him, her eyes shining in the dim light of the lair.

"Erik," she whispered, sounding like a frightened child. "What's happening?"

Erik sighed, raising his hand to grasp hers. "You've been brought back to me," he said softly. "You've been brought back to me…"

Christine's breath hitched on a sob as she collapsed against Erik's frame, crying into his chest as he slowly stroked her hair.

Erik locked eyes with Gerard over Christine's head.

Gerard nodded to Erik, who closed his eyes in response.

And with that, Gerard turned and waded out of the lair, leaving the ghostly Christine to weep in her angel's arms.


	13. Different But The Same

**_Sorry for the delay in this chapter...I was in the city from Thurs until yesterday..._**

**_Anyhow...here you go! _**

**_I will ask you all to mind the rating for the next chapter. ;)_**

**_-Nico_**

* * *

****

Rae didn't expect heaven to be so…

Dark.

She strained to see in front of her. She could barely make out a figure on the other side of whatever room she was in.

Slowly, she pulled herself to a sitting position, moaning slightly.

The sound caught the attention of the figure, which moved closer to her.

"Who's there?" Rae asked, frightened.

"It's me," Gerard said quietly, coming to sit on the bed next to her.

"Gerard?" Rae questioned.

"Yes," he replied, grasping one of her cold hands. "Are you alright?"

"Could you turn on a light?" She asked.

Gerard got up, clicking on one of the dimmer lights in the room.

Still, Rae squinted as the soft yellow glow filled the room she now recognized as the hotel both she and Gerard had been staying in.

She looked up, watching as Gerard moved back to his spot on the bed.

He wore all black, which didn't surprise her.

What worried her, however, were the dark circles under his eyes, which, for once, were not the effect of the eye make-up he usually wore.

"Are _you_ alright?" Rae asked, moving over slightly to make room for him to sit.

"Yes," Gerard replied. "I am now."

"How long was I out for this time?" Rae asked.

"Nearly 20 hours," Gerard replied.

Rae gasped.

"I had a doctor come look at you," Gerard continued. "You're fine; your body was just in a state of shock."

Rae regarded him. "I actually felt her leave my body," she revealed.

Gerard looked over at her, his eyes encouraging her to continue.

"It was this completely overwhelming feeling of happiness and sadness all at once," she said. "She had become such a part of me, I guess I wasn't ready to let her go."

Rae lowered her eyes, hiding tears from Gerard.

"Believe me," he said softly, "no one understands what you mean more than I do."

Rae lifted her dampened lashes to meet his eyes.

They had taken on a golden, greenish hue…from exhaustion or relief, Rae could not be certain.

His dark hair hung partially over his face, the rest hanging in stylishly cut locks.

"You look different," Rae said, raising a pale hand to his face.

"Do I?" Gerard asked, allowing her to run her fingertips down his cheek.

Rae nodded. "Your eyes are brighter…and your skin isn't as pale." She let her fingertips wander to his lips. "And your lips seem fuller."

Gerard chuckled. "My _lips_ seem fuller?"

"Shut up, they do," Rae said, playfully shoving Gerard. "Even your hair seems more…alive."

Gerard looked down at the woman in the bed. Truth be told, she looked different too. Her cheeks were rosy…her eyes seemed to carry none of the despair they once had. Her hair seemed shinier…more luxurious, if that was possible.

"Perhaps _their_ effects on us were simply too much for our bodies to bear," Gerard suggested.

Rae considered this. "Maybe," she said, stretching. "All I know is that I feel better than I have in ages."

Gerard slowly placed one hand on one side of Rae's body, his other on the other side of her. He looked down at her face, which bore a smile. Rae twined her fingers in a particularly long lock of his hair. Playfully, Gerard dipped down, brushing her lips with his own, pulling away just as Rae tipped her chin up to receive his kiss.

He licked his lips, his brow coming together as if he was considering the most serious of matters.

"You taste better too," he commented, dodging the teasing swat of Rae's hand.

Instead, he caught her wrist, bringing her palm to his chest.

Beneath the thin layer of his black shirt, Rae could feel the warmth of the steady beating of his heart.

For some reason, this action seemed more intimate to Rae than any other contact she had had with him.

He dipped his head again, tracing the outline of her lips with his tongue, eliciting a soft sigh from Rae.

"So," she said breathlessly. "Would it be safe for me to assume that your sway on me is entirely your own?"

Gerard lifted his head. "Mostly," he teased, rubbing his nose against hers.

"I'm serious!" Rae protested, walking her fingers up to his shoulder. "I need to know that you are here for me, and for no other reason."

Gerard smiled. "Why would you doubt that?"

Rae sighed, adjusting herself beneath his weight.

The effect was almost torturous on Gerard.

"Because it's been so long since I've been myself," she replied. "It's been too long."

"And you doubt that someone could love you without Christine?" Gerard asked.

Rae blinked, her wide eyes meeting with his. "L…Love?" She stammered.

Gerard bit his lip. "Well…I mean…" he sputtered.

Looking down at the smiling Rae below him, he sighed. "Yes, you irritating thing," he tickled her waist. "Love."

"You love me?" Rae asked meekly.

Gerard nodded, lowering his mouth to hers.

Rae's heart felt almost too full to be contained within her chest. She wrapped her arms around Gerard's neck, pulling him closer to her, connecting his chest with her own.

Gerard pulled back, looking confused.

"What's the matter?" Rae asked anxiously, her breath raspy.

"This isn't right," Gerard proclaimed.

A nervous knot pulled at Rae's insides.

"It's not?" She asked nervously.

"No," Gerard shook his head. "It's not."

Rae pulled the silken covers up around her, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

Just as soon as she had, Gerard grasped her waist, pulling her on top of him.

Rae shrieked and then giggled as Gerard wove his hands through her hair, pulling her lips down to his.

"This," he said, "Is much better…"


	14. Finally Whole

**_Mind the rating! Smut ahead!_**

**_And no, this is not the end!_**

**_-Nico_**

* * *

Never before had Gerard wanted to remember each and every curve of a person…each soft fold of skin, every freckle, scar, and yes, even blemish.

It was so with Rae, who lay before him in simply her glorious bare skin.

He felt stronger…larger than he had in years as he lay on his side beside her, still wearing his black pants, belted to his body with a large silver buckle. Rae gazed up at him, tracing the outline of his perfectly formed nose, lips, and eyelids with her own eyes.

For what may have been hours, they lay together this way, simply memorizing each other's bodies with light touches and lingering gazes.

Eventually, when looking became insufficient, Gerard chose to pull her to his naked chest, kissing her…first her lips, then her jaw, then down her collarbone, all the while reveling in the tiny sighs that emitted from her chest as he traced small, perfect circles on her hot skin with his tongue.

Her nails raked against his porcelain back, intensifying as Gerard sucked gently at the base of her throat. He moved slowly, taking the time to taste each inch of her.

The effect on Rae was tangible, and Gerard could feel her body tighten like a coil more and more with every touch of his mouth and fingers.

In turn, Gerard's body hardened and flexed in response to the warmth of the woman below him.

He allowed his right hand to trail the side of her body, coming up slowly to cup her left breast, the corner of his mouth turning up in a cat-like smile as he heard the soft gasp that tore through Rae's very being.

Stars clouded her sight as she felt the warmth of his mouth envelop the dusky peak of her. She buried her hands in his hair, holding him close to her, desperately trying to steady her frantic breathing.

Rae almost broke in half as she felt his hand travel southward.

She was unable to suppress calling out his name as she felt him feel through what she was sure was slick folds of skin.

In response, he moved quickly, dipping his head down to taste her more intimately.

Rae's heels dug into the soft hotel bed, her hands clutched at the loose sheets and blankets she had rested in.

Her body shook as Gerard teased and tasted her, her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, her nostrils filled with the masculine scent of him.

Soon, she felt she would either explode or die. She wriggled down, grasping his face between her hands.

He raised an eyebrow, a smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"My God," Rae breathed. "You're truly beautiful."

"Thank you," Gerard replied. "But you don't need to flatter me; you've already gotten me in bed."

Rae giggled pulling him to her so that she could kiss him while she deftly unbuckled his pants and slid them down his muscular legs with her foot.

Their eyes remained locked as Gerard positioned himself above her, pausing for a moment before entering her.

They sighed in unison.

All of the passion, all of the fear, the pain, the love that had developed in the last few days presented itself in a rhythmic matching of the two lovers. Gerard rested his head in the crook of Rae's neck as he loved her, whispering her name into her ear as he rained kisses on the tender part of her neck.

Rae wrapped her legs around him, reveling in the warmth from his body…the overwhelming feelings coursing equally through the both of them.

Gerard's pace became more frantic, and she matched him, pulsing until they both shattered in an explosion of lust, fantasy, and happiness.

And later, laying in his arms, feeling his soft breath flutter in her hair, Rae knew that she had become whole.

And the man in her bed had too.


	15. Under the Advice of Therapists

**_I've gotten a couple emails asking if that last chapter was the end...it wasn't! And neither is this one!_**

**_Nico_**

* * *

****

Rae stopped at the base of the steps of the Paris Opera House.

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at the immense building with fear and a tiny bit of loathing.

Gerard looked back from several steps up, suddenly aware that Rae was not at his side.

Looking down at her, he couldn't help but smile.

Her bright red and golden hair exploded in a torrent of curls, fashionably piled atop her head. Her large eyes were hidden by equally large sunglasses. Her tiny nose was wrinkled up in contemplation, and her rosebud lips were pursed.

Sleek black clothing covered her impossibly perfect form, large black boots completed the look. Peaking out from the high slit in her black skirt were red fishnets, a detail that never failed to excite Gerard.

"What's the matter?" He asked her, casually brushing his dark hair from his eyes.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," Rae replied.

Gerard laughed. "This was _your_ idea," he reminded her.

"Yes, well," Rae cleared her throat. "Obviously, I have a problem with decision making."

Gerard walked back down to her, the chain of his wallet jingling in time with his steps. He moved close to her, taking both her hands in his. "It's a good idea," he said supportively. "What were they always talking about in therapy? Closure and all that?"

Rae stuck her tongue out at Gerard. "When were the doctors _ever_ right," she muttered.

"Come on," Gerard said, ignoring her last statement and leading her by the hand.

Rae followed, but sighed heavily. "We don't even know if they're still here," she said, trying another tactic of escape. "It's been three months; they could be anywhere by now."

Gerard smiled. "Doubtful," he said. "From the response of the audiences of the new opera that opened two weeks ago, I'm nearly certain that the infamous phantom is still around and picking up right where he left off."

Rae scowled. She couldn't disagree with him. The new dark, terribly seductive opera had created quite a stir both locally and nationally…receiving critiques ranging from abundant praise to questions of morality.

It oozed the familiarity of the Phantom of the Opera.

Of course, only Rae and Gerard had memories to compare it to.

"Well even if they are here," Rae said, lowering her voice as they entered the main foyer of the Opera House, "it doesn't mean that they want to see us. After all, he did try to kill you and kidnapped me!"

"Rae," Gerard said calmly. "We have to do this."

Rae sighed. "All-_right._"

"Gerard!"

A familiar, irritatingly polished voice rang out against the marble of the foyer.

"Great," Rae mumbled as she caught sight of Bethany hurrying over to where she stood next to Gerard.

"Gerard," Bethany addressed him again as she got closer. Rae could not help but become annoyed by the warm way she spoke Gerard's name. "I thought that was you," she said, kissing Gerard's cheeks.

"Hello Bethany," Gerard said cordially. "You remember Rae."

Bethany looked down the length of her elegant nose, recollection suddenly passing over her face.

"Ah yes, your little friend," she said condescendingly. "Nice to see you again."

Rae rolled her eyes, hating the woman more with each passing moment.

Bethany's attentions, meanwhile, went right back to Gerard. "You must tell me everything that has been going on in your _fabulous_ life, Gerard!" She gushed. "I heard you have been performing again."

Gerard looked over at Rae, his eyes pleading with her to ignore Bethany.

"Yes," he confirmed. "I have been."

"How wonderful!" Bethany clapped her hands together. "You must let me know when I can book you here," she said enthusiastically.

"I'm afraid that won't be for a while," Gerard said. "We are returning to America next week for a six month tour."

Bethany looked genuinely hurt. "Our little city was not enough for you?" She asked.

Gerard smiled. "At times it was too much," he replied.

"So tell me, Gerard," Bethany said, looping an arm through his, nearly causing Rae to commit murder. "Who is this new woman you've been seen with for the past few months," she asked. "The tabloids are calling her your fiancé…is it true?"

Rae's attention was grabbed. "Yes, Gerard…please _do_ tell Bethany all about your new woman." She stared at Bethany, daggers shooting from her eyes.

"Oh," Bethany said, realizing. "It's you."

"Yes, it's me," Rae replied.

Bethany took her arm off of Gerard, who moved to clasp Rae's hand, squeezing to encourage her patience.

"And to what do I owe this visit?" Bethany asked. She had changed the subject, but Rae knew by the tone of her voice that the regal-looking woman was almost overcome with jealousy.

"We'd like to take one last look around…to say goodbye, if you will," Gerard said.

Bethany pursed her lips together. "Of course," she said with forced enthusiasm. "My opera is your opera. Now, if the two of you will excuse me, I have some pressing business matters to attend to."

Bethany made her hasty exit, much to the delight and satisfaction of Rae.

"I hate her," Rae informed Gerard under her breath.

Gerard chuckled, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Jealous thing," he cooed into her ear. "She doesn't even come close to you."

Rae smiled inwardly, following Gerard as he once more led her back to the secret panel, and the world beneath the Paris Opera House.


	16. Lost Souls

**_This is not the end yet. lol. _**

**_Nico_**

* * *

Somebody, or a pair of somebodies, had been very busy.

The first fifty feet or so of the dark passageway that led towards the infamous Phantom's lair were still dingy and damp, but after those fifty feet it was clean, dry and tastefully lit.

"How could this be down here without anyone knowing?" Rae whispered, looking up at the torches that lit their way.

"I don't know," Gerard whispered back, continuing to walk deeper into the lair.

Eventually, they found themselves on the opposite side of the immense lake that swirled mist throughout the lair. Two boats now rested against the lapping shores, both intricately designed and branded with a skull insignia that was unmistakably linked to the Phantom of the Opera.

Gerard placed one foot inside the larger of the two boats and kept his other foot firmly planted on the shore, steadying the boat for Rae to climb in.

She hesitated a moment and then shrugged. "Well, we've come this far," she rationalized, taking Gerard's hand and sitting down carefully.

As Gerard maneuvered the boat, a soft, lilting voice could be heard, lifting and lowering along with a soft piano ballad.

The tune was a new one; neither Rae nor Gerard recognized it.

The melody intensified as they drew closer to the gates, allowing them to peer past the iron bars into a scene of pure curiosity.

They were still hidden from Erik and Christine's eyes. Christine stood just to the left of the massive grand piano Erik was sitting at, her eyes closed, her voice just as ethereal as her appearance.

She wore all white. The silken layers of her skirts seems to fade around the edges, giving her a mystical appearance…as if she was not totally there.

From time to time, Erik looked up at her.

Rae even saw him smile.

Candles blazed from every corner of the living space, splashing light across marble and stone, gold and silver, glass and velvet. The quarters were lavishly decorated…so much so that the comfort of the occupants could never be questioned.

So captivated with the scene was Gerard that he failed to notice how close the front of the boat had come to the iron gates.

Mahogany met iron with a thud, causing both Erik and Christine to turn their attentions to the gate.

Gerard and Rae remained perfectly still, locking eyes with the Phantom, who had turned to look at them with a murderous glare.

Christine, however, recognizing Rae and Gerard, placed a soft hand on Erik's sleeve, instantly calming him.

After a moment, Erik rose, depressing the lever that lifted the gates, giving Gerard and Rae access to the most intimate section of the lair.

Gerard rowed in slowly, approaching the shore where Erik now stood with Christine at his side, both watching Rae and Gerard.

Once the boat skimmed the shore, Gerard hopped out, extending his hand to Rae who nervously took it.

Soon, the two couples were within mere feet of each other, simply regarding each others' pasts.

"Why have you come," Erik asked, his deep, rich voice resonating off the cavernous walls.

Rae's tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth.

"We wanted…" Gerard stopped, correcting himself, "_needed_ to see the two of you again."

"Why?" Erik asked again. Christine moved closer to him, her hand locking with his.

"Because we wanted to see if things had worked out as well for you as they had for us," Rae said, looking over at Gerard. "And," she continued, taking a breath, "we want to know why all this happened."

Erik looked down at Christine. "What makes you think we have the answer to that?" He asked.

Rae's brows furrowed. "Surely you must know _something_," she said.

"Perhaps you are asking the wrong questions."

That statement came from Christine, who had remained silent at Erik's side since the arrival of Gerard and Rae.

Rae locked eyes with the woman.

There was something different about her…something…inhuman.

Rae narrowed her eyes. "What are you?" She asked Christine.

Christine laughed. It sounded like a bell being rung in the distance.

"It's really quite simple, Rae," Erik said suddenly.

Rae raised her eyes to Erik, whose deep eyes were sharp, but warm.

"Is it?" Rae asked. "It didn't _feel_ simple when the two of you invaded our bodies," she continued, feeling braver. "Do either of you realize the hell we went through?"

Christine scoffed. "It could not be nearly as traumatic as what we've experienced."

Gerard, who had been remained silent since Rae began to speak, suddenly raised his hand, bringing it closer and closer to Christine's face.

"Gerard," Rae said, her voice confused. "What are you doing?"

Erik looked over at Rae. "Watch," he said softly.

Gerard lifted his pale hand to Christine's paler cheek. Slowly, he brought his fingertips down to make contact with her skin…

And suddenly realized that there was no skin to touch…just swirling air that connected to form the figure of Christine Daae.

Gerard jumped back as if he had been burned.

"What's going on?" Rae demanded, backing up a step as well.

"Darling," Christine said, her warm voice soothing Rae's fringed nerves. "I know that the people of today's world live considerably longer than the people of mine…but as far as I know, not many people live for more than a hundred years."

"What are you trying to say?" Rae asked breathlessly.

"What she is trying to say, my dear Miss Browne, is that you and Gerard played exceptional hosts to our lost souls," Erik said.

"Lost souls?" Rae repeated. "What does that mean?"

Gerard grasped her hand, his fingertips still cold from touching Christine's intangible face. "Rae," he said softly, "They've been dead for nearly a hundred years."


	17. The Rose

**_Hello all! Sorry that it's taken so long for this final chapter. I went in a bunch of different directions before I decided that this was how I wanted this to close. _**

**_Thank you all so much for reading...and I hope to have a new story for you soon!_**

**_Nico_**

* * *

Rae watched from backstage as Gerard held out the last, impossibly intense note of his band's newest hit song. 

The screams and applause from the audience began way before the music ended.

Gerard bowed, thankingNew York Cityfor their continued support of his musical career.

Rae jumped into his arms as Gerard came into the wings of the stage, swooping her up to him, smudging black eyeliner from his sweaty face to hers as he kissed her.

"What did you think?" Gerard asked Rae, ignoring the gibes from his band-mates as they walked past the happy couple.

"I think your career has been sufficiently resurrected," she said, flipping a damp lock of Gerard's black hair from his forehead.

"I'll drink to that!" Dewey exclaimed, quickly popping open a can of his favorite beer.

"Take it easy, Dewey," Rae warned. "If you throw up in the back of my car again I'm going to be pissed."

Dewey gave Rae a half smiled and then disappeared into the crowd of groupies that had begun to gather, desperately hoping for more than a glimpse of their favorite band mates.

Gerard looped an arm around Rae's waist, his black boots walking determinedly past the throng.

Rae did her best to ignore the hateful stares of the women who longed for a hint of acknowledgement from Gerard, who did nothing more than offer a friendly, half-sincere smile to the lot of them.

Inwardly, Rae grinned, knowing full well that she and Gerard had a bond that went deeper than any pop-junkie's crush on the front man of one of the most successful musical groups on the market.

Gerard opened the door to his moderately sized dressing room. Rae slipped in behind him, sighing with relief as Gerard closed the door behind them, effectively shutting out the buzz of the crowds that were growing ever larger backstage.

"Do you still plan on retiring in a year?" Rae asked Gerard, flopping down on a plush velvet-red couch as Gerard downed an entire bottle of water.

He smiled.

"I forgot how addicting the lime-light can be," he admitted.

"I suppose then I should get used to us having no privacy…ever," Rae commented, her voice teasing.

Gerard looked back at her, moving to stand in front of her at the couch.

"You mean you don't like having your picture splashed across hundreds of tabloids a day?" He asked, his voice sweetly mocking.

"I suppose I could live without that," Rae replied, enjoying the joking banter that she and Gerard shared.

Gerard smiled, suddenly lowering himself on top of her, his legs straddling her lap.

"Ugh, get off! You're too heavy!" Rae protested, pushing him away, unable to suppress giggles as Gerard pinned her to the couch.

"You mean you don't like being mauled by a famous rock star?" He teased, tickling her ribs.

"Ack! No! I don't!" Rae yelled, laughing.

"Really? Well maybe I should just go on out into the hallway and see if anyone wants to take your place…"

Rae laughed, pulling Gerard back to the couch as he pretended to head for the door.

"Don't you dare," she said, easing him into a kiss.

Gerard smiled into her mouth, delighting in the response her gentle lips elicited from his body.

He pulled away and looked down at her.

She was looking at something in the distance.

Gerard followed her gaze.

A single red rose sat in a black vase on Gerard's dressing table.

Rae was certain it hadn't been there before.

She scrambled to get up, laughing as Gerard dramatically fell from her body onto the couch with a huff.

"Who brought this?" She asked Gerard.

He shrugged, watching as Rae walked over to the rose, lifting a small cream-coloured envelope from the base of the vase.

"Can I open it?" She asked him.

"What if it's from my other girlfriend?" Gerard asked.

"Shut up," Rae replied, smiling at him as she opened the letter.

The smile fell from her face as she read.

After a moment, she lifted her eyes to Gerard's.

"Gerard," she breathed, handing him the letter.

_What a marvelous performance!_

_Terribly different from my compositions, but Christine and I enjoyed it immensely. _

_Your kindness shall never be forgotten…all you did for us will not go unpaid. _

_Until we meet again..._

_I remain your humble servant, _

_O.G. _

Gerard carefully re-folded the letter.

"What does it mean?" Rae asked quietly.

Gerard smiled. "I suppose it means that the world hasn't heard the last of the notorious Phantom of the Opera," he said.

Rae smiled, enjoying the thought.

"I don't think he would have it any other way," she said.

Silence filled the room.

"Come on," Rae said, suddenly eager to change the subject. "I'm starving."

Gerard nodded, taking her hand and leading her to the doorway.

Neither heard the laughter that filled the room as the lights dimmed on one perfect rose.


End file.
